Lisa Scottoline

Inquirer Columnist

Lisa Scottoline and her daughter Francesca Serritella write a column, Chick Wit, for The Sunday Inquirer's Arts&Entertainment section. Lisa is a New York Times best-selling novelist with some 30 million copies in print worldwide. She won the Edgar Award for suspense writing, and is the president of the Mystery Writers of America. She is a Philadelphia native who lives in Chester County with four dogs, two cats, and several chickens. Visit Lisa at www.scottoline.com.

Francesca Serritella graduated cum laude from Harvard University, where she won the Thomas Temple Hoopes Prize, the Le Baron Russell Briggs Fiction Prize, and the Charles Edmund Horman Prize for her creative writing. She is working on a novel, and lives in New York with only one dog, so far. Visit Francesca at www.francescaserritella.com.

One of the things I like best about myself is that when I'm wrong, I'm very wrong.

You know I'm talking about Thing One and Thing Two.

I don't make just major mistakes. I make marital mistakes.

But on the positive side, when I'm right, I'm very right. That's why I wanted to rerun this classic column about New Year's. It was first published in the newspaper eight years ago, when I came up with the idea that, as the new year begins, we should focus on the things we do right in life instead of the things we do wrong. And if we're doing something right, we should keep doing it, and we should make that a resolution every year.

To me, that idea has only gotten truer because these are turbulent times, indeed, and we need to cling tight to the good in the world that we create, not only for ourselves, but also for our friends, families, and, of course, our dogs and cats and chickens.

Hypothetically speaking.

So take a look at this classic column and see whether you don't agree with me.

As Mother Mary used to say, Am I right or am I right?

UnResolution No. 1. I sleep in my clothes, and I resolve to keep sleeping in my clothes. I know this sounds weird, and it helps that my clothes are fleece pants and a fleece top, because I work at home. Sometimes, I even wear a fleece hat to bed, like a nightcap, because I like my room cold, but not my head. Bottom line, I never have to worry about what to wear, and I'm already dressed, all the time. So now you know.

UnResolution No. 2. I kiss my pets on the lips, and I like it. I know people say it's unsanitary, but they're no fun. All of my animals expect me to kiss them on the lips, even my pony. And if they balk, I grab them by their furry cheeks and force them to stand still. I'm paying the room and board, and all I want is a little smooch. Ain't nothing wrong with that.

UnResolution No. 3. I don't own an iron. It's not the worst thing in the world if my clothes are a little wrinkly. No one really notices, or if they do, they're too polite to say so, which is the same thing. To me.

UnResolution No. 4. I talk to strangers. I got this from my mother, who, when we went into the Acme, talked to the produce guy, the stock boy, and the cashier. She was always up in their business, and, in time, they were up in hers. It turned every errand into a little party, a reunion of old friends, but there just happens to be a cash register in the room.

UnResolution No. 5. I make too much food. If I serve dinner and no one at the table says, "You made too much food," I feel like I failed. I love the idea that there's a lot of food on the table. I want everybody full and happy, and I always give the leftovers to the dogs and cats. You know what comes next.

(I kiss them on the lips.)

UnResolution No. 6. I wear flats. I used to always wear high heels, because I'm a shorty. I thought I felt more powerful in heels, but all I really felt was more painful. It was daughter Francesca who got me started wearing flats, and it changed my life. My toes are always happy, and I'm still a mighty mite.

UnResolution No. 7. I buy too many books. I love to read and have hundreds of books overflowing my bookshelves and stacked high on my dining room table, in piles. I love living around books, and reading is like traveling without baggage claim. Who needs a dining room anyway?

So maybe now you understand why I'm single.

Which brings me to:

UnResolution No. 8. I live alone, but I'm not lonely. I know lots of you live alone, whether by choice or by circumstance, and you may be lonely. I'm not saying you're not allowed to be, but the fact that you live alone doesn't necessarily mean you're lonely. It means you're free to wear hats to bed.

In the end, our own personal happiness is about figuring out what makes us feel the most ourselves, and living that way - to hell with what anybody else thinks.

So should you have made a list of resolutions, please try to make some unresolutions, too.

It will be a Happier New Year.

Look for Lisa and Francesca's new humor collection, "I've Got Sand in All the Wrong Places" and Lisa's novel "Damaged" in stores now. Also look for Lisa's new domestic thriller, "One Perfect Lie," coming in April. lisa@scottoline.com.